


These Eyes

by Serised



Series: The Skater and the Footballer: A Love Story (Sort Of) [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Skating, Footballer!Louis, M/M, figure skating, figureskater!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:30:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serised/pseuds/Serised
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>AU.The first time Harry sees Louis it’s at a Manchester United game. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Harry doesn't give two shits about football, but goes anyway. (Second in the series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably note that I am terribly American and therefore really only care about the sport during the Olympics and World Cup, so my knowledge is pretty slim regardless of my friends attempting to teach me. I know the basics. 
> 
> Also, this work is second in the series, intended to be multiple chapters. Please enjoy.
> 
> Also also, this is dedicated to darkknight, who demanded more. Hope you like it. <3

The first time Harry sees Louis it’s at a Manchester United game. Harry isn’t a real big fan of football himself: he only goes for Man U because nearly everyone he knows does and he doesn’t want to be the odd one out even more than he already is. His good friend Zayn was friends with Liam, who was one of the players’ publicists (and Harry has to marvel in the fact that footballer’s have fucking publicists and media training and the whole nine yards, because he has none of that and is self taught on how to deal with annoying questions and endorsements), who wanted Zayn to come to a match and somehow Harry was dragged along into all the nonsense.

Really, he is here against his will. Send help.

He will admit though, being up in a private box is pretty cool. He’s never been to a football match before; whenever he’s watched had been on the telly and usually not live because Harry simply isn’t a huge fan of the sport. To be fair, Zayn wasn’t either which was one of the selling points on them being friends for so many years. That and Zayn hadn’t laughed in his face when Harry confessed his passion for figure skating. Or didn’t laugh when he told him after too many beers that he was gay. Really, Zayn was a godsend and his best friend beyond words. 

He’s sitting next to Zayn listening to him chat with Liam and if he’s honest, he’s pretty bored. The players are out on the field warming up, and it makes Harry a little jealous that this many people care about football and not figure skating. He’s still a little miffed about the Olympics the year previous, having barely missed the Olympic team and having to settle for watching them at home in his living room. It sucked, and that was putting it mildly. His only saving grace was that he was only now 19, and in three years time would still be pretty young in terms of Olympic figure skating to make the team. At least that’s what he kept telling himself as he trained.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by loud cheering, looking over to see Liam standing on his feet yelling at the top of his lungs. He gives a look over to Zayn, who senses his confusion.

“Liam works for Louis Tomlinson? Well him and Niall but Lou is his big time name and they are good friends.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. Zayn picked up on it as well. “He’s a defender. Number 28.” Zayn points down on the field and Harry looks down at him.

That is the first time Harry set eyes on Louis. Truth be told, it isn’t an earth shattering event. Harry could give two shits about it, but if Liam and Zayn and everyone else in the box are going to cheer for him, then so will Harry. He’s good at faking enthusiasm, which isn’t expected from a figure skater but Harry has never been or done anything expected of him.

\------

Not long after that, the match starts. It’s a bunch of chanting and singing and Harry sits watching the crowd more than he does the game. It is rather fascinating to watch people react so much to people running around chasing a ball, but then again it is one of the biggest sports in Europe. It makes Harry lose a little faith in his people, but then again they all support figure skating every four years so it’s a give and take sort of a thing.

His eyes drift down towards the players. He embarrassingly asked Zayn what color Man U was wearing, and received a look of something he couldn’t place in Liam’s eyes. It left Zayn nearly in tears, and took a whole five minutes to calm down, only to mutter ‘red’ before losing it again. For someone who typically kept his cool, it sure was interesting to see Zayn crying. From laughing. But once Harry figured it out, it was easier to spot Louis down on the field.

The game passed rather slowly, only in the opinion of Harry because Liam and Zayn were having a grand time. They were mostly chatting it up themselves and only breaking away from talking when something happened on the field. It left Harry a little annoyed, but he wasn’t going to pitch a fit about it. He’d do that later when he dragged Zayn to the ice in the early hours of the morning to film a routine. Payback was certainly a bitch.

\------

Manchester United ends up winning the match, 2-nil, and the stadium is singing and cheering and before Harry knows it he is following Liam and Zayn down to the locker room. Unbeknownst to him, he was invited to dinner, which is fine but apparently Zayn was too excited about hanging out with Liam to tell Harry about their plans. He’s leaning against the wall, scrolling through his Twitter feed when he hears his name.

“Harry Styles?”

His head whips up, and it’s the first time Harry and Louis meet face to face. Similar to the first time, it was nothing spectacular.

“Yes?”

“Holy shit. LIAM!”

Harry frowns, looking past the figure to spot Liam and Zayn, who were chatting to a blonde guy who was bouncing from side to side.

“Oh! I see you’ve met Harry.”

“Met? Li- this guy is the best figure skater in Britain!”

His mouth gapes open. “Excuse me?”

The figure grins. “Yeah mate! I’ve seen you on telly! Well, to be fair my sisters were watching it and I just happened to be there. Shame about the Olympics, honestly I think you were robbed.”

“Do I know you?”

The figure stops, standing straighter. “Shit, sorry. Name’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry starts laughing.

Needless to say, it’s not the best first impression ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to all Russian readers. I didn't intend to pick on your country. I hope I didn't offend anyone. Also, like with football, I'm ignorant to figure skating as well.
> 
> Also, this work is second in the series, intended to be multiple chapters. Please enjoy.
> 
> Also also, this is dedicated to darkknight, who demanded more. Hope you like it. <3

Dinner, needless to say, is awkward.

Harry is squashed between Zayn and the blonde guy whose name he learns is Niall. He also plays for Manchester, is Irish, loves food, and is the most spastic person Harry has ever met. They decided on burgers for their meal, which he hates because he can’t eat meat (well, chooses not to because he’s under the belief that not eating meat will make him skate better; it’s a new health kick but he does feel a lot better so there’s that), so he orders a salad and feels Niall’s eyes stare him down.

“Mate, we’re at a burger joint and you’re ordering a _salad?_ ”

“Uh, yeah?”

Zayn looks around Harry at Niall, whose mouth is slightly open as he stares at Harry. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Harry doesn't eat meat.” Silence. “Oh, shit, Harry!”

He shrugs. “’S fine.”

“How come you don’t eat meat?”

Harry glances over at the other side of the table, meeting Louis’ eyes. “I gave it up a few months ago. My trainer suggested it; he heard some wild story about this Russian skater who gave up meat and he won a load of competitions, so he suggested I do it too. ‘S helped so far.”

Louis nods, and Harry tries to figure out why he is explaining himself to someone he just barely met. Normally he’s a little more closed off, which comes from years of competition against so many fake people who will smile in front of your face and sometimes not even wait until your back is turned before they are talking bad things about you. It used to hurt Harry a lot, especially when he was younger and was in the middle of making the decision to dedicate himself to skating. He quickly learned to develop a thick skin, and very rarely now did he ever react to the comments. 

They still hurt though, when he did hear them.

Liam cocks his head to the side. “How long have you been skating?”

What was this, question Harry day? “Since I was five, but I didn't really get into it until I was eight.”

Liam looks impressed, and Harry feels a little smug. “That’s impressive.”

“And you almost went to the Olympics!” Zayn rubs a hand over his back, knowing that the fact he missed the team by such a slim margin still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“There’s always Russia, right?”

Harry scoffs. “Bullshit they got the games, honestly. Bunch of wankers.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Harry can’t help but smirk. If this is what having friends feels like, then he wants this more often.

Their food comes in the midst of a conversation about the Olympics, while Louis is in the middle of explaining how he can’t wait for London because it’s the Olympics and they are at home and he has a good chance to make the national team.

“You lot will be there, right?”

Liam ruffles Louis’ hair, as Niall says through a mouthful of food: “’Course mate!”

Harry shares a look with Zayn, who smiles and bumps shoulders with him before digging into his own meal. Harry turns to his salad, light dressing, and wishes for a moment he didn’t have to be so particular about his food. The Olympics were three years away, but he still had numerous competitions until then. World Championships were only a month and a half away, which was a scary thought, because he was working on a semi-new routine and didn’t have that much time to perfect it. Never a dull moment in the life of a figure skater.

After their plates are cleared away and Niall is working on desert, he feels eyes from across the table on him again. He looks over, and Louis smiles at him.

“So when do we get to come watch you skate?”

Harry frowns. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because that’s what friends do! Besides, it’s only fair that you came to watch me play that we all come watch you.”

“You’re more than welcome to come watch me practice…”

“I’m not interested in practice. Like I said, I saw you on the telly, now I want to see it in person so I can rub it in my sisters’ faces and make them jealous. It’s my right as their big brother.”

Harry can’t help but smile. “Well, I do have a competition soon, but it’s in Japan…”

Niall makes a noise beside him. “I love Japanese food!”

The whole table erupts into laughter again, and Harry can’t believe this is his life right now.

\------

A month later and Harry is skating around the rink alone, his mind in a panic. The whole earthquake and tsunami in Japan had left the competition up in the air, and it had just been decided that Russia, of all places, would host the Championships, which would bump the whole thing back another month. While it was nice to have another month to prepare, Harry was slowly starting to freak out that Russia was allowed to host when, in two years, they were getting the Olympics. It’s not as though he hated Russia, he just hated skating there because if anything was his Achilles’ heel, it was Russia. He never skated well there, somehow always letting the nerves get to the best of him. In all his years of competing, he’d only cleanly performed seven routines. Out of countless attempts. Last year Charlie White, of the American ice dancing team found him hyperventilating in the bathroom and held him while whispering words to help him calm down. Not one of his finer moments. He finds it hard now to look Charlie in the eye, but since then they have become good friends and Harry will often fly out to Michigan when he has time to skate with him and Meryl. So while it worked out for the better, it still was embarrassing.

He has half a mind to grab his phone to message Charlie when he hears his name called. Turning around, he sticks his skates in the ice, and sees Louis, Niall, Liam, and Zayn all standing together looking completely out of place in the empty building. Harry frowns, quickly skating over to the edge of the rink. “Is something wrong?”

Zayn gives him a look. “You tell us. You said you’d be done two hours ago. We had lunch plans?”

Shit. Harry completely forgot. “Shit, I-“

“What happened?”

Louis has a funny look on his face. “What?”

“You’re face. You look worried about something. What happened?”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s nothing-“

“Bullshit. You look white as a sheet mate, and that’s comin’ from an Irishman.”

He sighs, leaning against the wall of the rink. “Long story short? Championships got moved to Russia. I hate skating in Russia.”

It’s silent for a moment, before Niall raises a fist in the air. “I love Russian food!”

Zayn hits him upside the head, looking at Harry, who shrugs. “I know it’s kind of last minute, so I understand if you guys can’t come…”

“Sod off, we’re still coming, even if Russia sucks.”

Harry looks at Louis, before looking at the rest of them and they all share the same look, all smiling and looking excited and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t want to break down and cry right then and there. He opens his arms. “C’mon, group hug, bring it in.”

He’s bombarded with hair and arms and it’s starting to feel like home. He lets himself relax for a moment in the embrace, feeling an arm around his waist squeezing (Louis) and another hand in his hair (Zayn) and it’s a whole minute before anyone breaks away. Harry lets himself skate backwards, readjusting the headband in his hair as he smirks. “Want to see part of my routine?”

Four cheers lead him around the outside of the rink, skating fast to warm up his legs. He knows Zayn will start the music when he’s ready, because this is normal for them. It’s not normal for them to let someone in on this, let alone three new people. Harry is very particular on who he lets see his routines, especially this close to competition. He can’t help but feel like he can trust these boys though, because even in the short amount of time that they have known each other, the five of them have become nearly inseparable. Especially himself and Louis, who text frequently and often stay at each other’s flats and it’s like they’ve been friends forever and not just a few months. It’s strange to Harry, letting people in is strange because that’s not how his world works, hasn’t for years but Louis just feels right.

He lets out a sigh, slowing down to the center of the rink, shaking his arms out as he gets into position. His short program is to the music of Swan Lake, long program to Singin’ in the Rain, and Harry is dammed sure if he nails his routines he is guaranteed a medal. Closing his eyes, he breathes deep, his short program music starting and his mind goes blank as he lets himself feel the performance.

He skates the whole short program, lands everything, and nearly three minutes later he is in his finishing pose and is grinning, chest heaving for breath and this is why he skates. He loves flying through the air, landing on such a thin blade and feeling so graceful and elegant. He looks over at the boys; sees Niall jumping up and down, Zayn smiling so wide his face could split in two, Liam looking nearly the same, and Louis. Harry can’t place the look on Louis face, but as he skates towards him he can see tears in his eyes. He frowns, as Louis meets him at the wall, wrapping his arms around him. “That was beautiful.”

In that moment, Harry knows he’s fucked. He’s falling for a footballer. This can’t end well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Apparently painting your bedroom takes longer than a few days. Hopefully I made up for the delay by posting a long chapter. Please review, because I'm doubting my writing right now.
> 
> Also, this work is second in the series, intended to be multiple chapters. Please enjoy.
> 
> Also also, this is dedicated to darkknight, who demanded more. Hope you like it. <3

The night before their flight to Moscow, Harry is invited to Louis flat along with everyone else to stay the night because they are all taking the same flight in the morning. It wasn’t the original plan, but Zayn flat out refused to let Harry be by himself this close to competition, and he already planned on staying with Harry when Louis made the executive decision to host them all and took no arguments. Its how Harry found himself in the passenger seat of Zayn’s car, bags all packed for the flight and his knee jumping as they drove to Louis’ complex.

While he was thankful for the boys, especially Zayn for knowing how anxious Harry got before competition, it was still more nerve wracking knowing that he was letting Liam and Niall and Louis into his world. Ice skating was nothing like football. It had costumes and music and no fans jeering at you (but if they were they were typically silent about it). Routines were choreographed and practiced over and over and over and no one cared about it, and Harry was fine with that. He loved the fact that only his family and Zayn and subsequently Perrie because she was with Zayn supported Harry because she loved both Zayn and Harry. It was nice.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly. “Mate, you okay?”

He nodded, clearing his throat when Zayn made it clear he wanted a verbal answer. “Yeah. Just nervous, you know?”

Harry hated the look of sadness that flashed over Zayn’s face. It made him feel, he couldn’t describe it, but he didn’t like it. “Babe, you don’t need to be nervous. You’re gonna do-“

“Don’t you dare say I’m gonna do fine, Zayn Malik, or I swear to god I will buzz your hair off while you sleep.”

Zayn gave him a look, clearly unimpressed. “Fine. Tell me why you’re nervous then.”

“Because!” Harry threw his hands up in the air, shifting in his seat to face Zayn. “Because it’s Russia, and I fucking hate Russia, and Louis and Niall and Liam are coming and-"

“Do you not want them to come?”

“No, I do! I really do, it’s just-“Harry sighs, head falling against the headrest. “I don’t know. I want to do well to show them that figure skating is just as cool as football, but I’m nervous. It’s stupid. Forget about it.”

It’s quiet for a minute, before Zayn reaches over to pat his knee. “Babe, if they didn’t care about figure skating, and you, they wouldn’t be coming. Trust me. They are excited to see you perform for real. Hell, I am too, because you haven’t let me come watch in years, and I’m supposed to be your best friend.”

“You are my best friend,” Harry mumbles, picking at the hole in the knee of his jeans.

Zayn parks the car a few minutes later, moving to where he is facing Harry completely. “Do me a favor, okay? Go in there and tonight we’re not gonna think about the competition. We’re gonna watch movies, chat with the lads, and get some sleep so we’re not dead on the flight in the morning. Got it?”

Harry nods, looking up at Zayn with slightly watery eyes. He offers him a smile before leaning into the older boy, feeling Zayn’s arms wrap around him tight.

\------

Niall gets the idea to start the night off with _Blades of Glory_ , and Harry hasn’t laughed so hard in his life after watching Niall and Louis banter back and forth on the realistic implications of Stranz and Fairchild’s incestuous affair and their forbidden romance skate. The movie is long over before the argument is, and Liam decides to replay the movie and sit beside Harry while asking him if half the stuff in the movie is even remotely possible. Harry appreciates Liam and how eager he is to learn about his sport. He figures he might have to repay him back and ask Liam to teach him about football so he isn’t completely clueless the next time he goes to watch Niall and Louis play.

By half midnight Harry is yawning, tired from skating all day. They finally switched movies, putting in _The Avengers_ , and he’s lulled to sleep by Captain America and Tony Stark bickering back and forth while Zayn and Niall and Louis debate who the best superhero is. He remembers leaning against Louis before he fell asleep, and briefly wakes up to someone carrying him and uttering “fucking shit he barely weighs anything” before there is a pillow under his head and an arm wrapped around his waist and he’s already back asleep.

Morning dawns too early for his liking. He moves to stretch his limbs, and hits a body. His eyes snap open, blinking the sleep out while he slowly turns his head and sees a sleeping Louis beside him. It takes a moment for him to remember the night before; falling asleep on the couch and someone (Liam) carrying him to a bed, which was apparently Louis’ and he was kind enough to share. He hasn’t shared a bed with anyone in a long time, not since he broke up with Matt after finding out the fucker cheated on him with two other people while Harry was in America practicing with Charlie and Meryl. He remembered Zayn almost going to jail because after Harry had barged into his flat soaked and sobbing from running there in the pouring rain, he left Harry with Perrie and nearly beat the shit out of Matt. That was almost a year ago, and Harry internally winces because it’s been that long since he’s gotten laid.

He sighs, turning so he can get a better look at Louis. For someone so hyper and busy awake, he’s the opposite asleep. He’s curled tightly into himself, face completely relaxed for once. He almost looks younger, closer to Harry’s age of 19 than his own 22.

“It’s not polite to stare, y’know.”

Harry jumps, looking at Louis who now has an eye cracked open and a smirk on his face.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, I’m flattered. Not many people get to see this. You should consider yourself lucky, Harry Styles.”

He smiles softly. “It’s such an honor,” he deadpans.

Louis frowns. “I don’t appreciate the tone, especially not after I let you sleep in my bed.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” Harry yawns, finally stretching out his limbs that have locked up while sleeping. Every snap and pop is music to his ears. “What time is it?”

Louis rolls over, grabbing his phone. “Time to get up if we want to make it to the airport on time. D’you wanna shower?”

It feels oddly domestic, Harry thinks, lying in bed discussing showering with Louis. He smirks. “We could share and save water.”

Louis freezes, rolling back over to look at Harry, mouth open. “Harold, was that a pick up line? Because it was pretty awful, trust me, I’ve heard my fair share.”

“Yeah, because you’re _so_ old…”

“Cheeky, aren’t you. And to think, I was just about to take you up on that offer!” Louis rolls out of bed, doing his own stretching. He turns back to Harry, smiling softly. “How about we talk about this after you win, okay?” His eyes are shining with hope, and it takes Harry a moment before he nods, unable to speak. Louis smiles back at him before shutting the door to the bathroom behind him.

\------

In the past few months, if Harry hasn’t been training for hours on end or working on his degree online, he’s been with Louis or one of the other boys. Mostly Louis, if he’s honest and for something that has not been going on for very long, he feels a certain pull towards Louis. Something he can’t explain, something he barely could tell his mum about over the phone when he called freaking out about how he felt towards Louis. He likes Louis, he knows that, and he’s attracted to him because, well, it’s Louis. He’s fit; he’s charming; he’s everything Matt never could be. It scares Harry to a certain extent, because the thought of a relationship after getting fucked over by Matt still scares him. He knows Zayn wants him to get back out there and start dating again, but in the aftermath of Matt he decided to throw himself into his skating, and while the work paid off aside from the Olympics, it sucked not having someone. 

And a part of him can’t help but wonder what a relationship with Louis would be like. He knows that Louis is gay, having had that discussion with him last month over dinner just the two of them because the rest of the lads bailed on them. Looking back, Harry thinks they may have bailed for a reason. But, would Louis even want to go public with a relationship, especially with his career? Harry knows he himself does not give two shits about publically announcing his sexuality, even though he knows that it could put a damper on endorsement deals in the future he has never been the person who denies himself anything. He’s always prided himself on being completely open and honest with everyone except for the media. His close friends and family know him well, and even though he stays guarded within himself he still remains open. Probably because he wears his heart on his sleeve and his face is just a book of emotion.

But Louis, the footballer he met a few months ago that has completely captivated his life and made him believe in relationships and love again. His position is completely different from Harry’s, and he knows this. Louis has so much more surrounding him than anyone else and Harry can’t seem to find anything fair. He wants so desperately for Louis to be able to come out and be open and honest with the public and inspire young kids who are gay and love football that they can be just like Louis someday.

Realistically, however, it’s just not possible. He can only imagine how harsh the backlash would be for Louis if he did come out, and while Harry knows that he would support Louis no matter what, he can’t watch Louis go through that, especially just for him. No matter how much he wants Louis, he can’t have him. The thought nearly brings him to tears, and he scrubs his eyes, finally sitting up in the bed. Louis’ bed. He can’t be here, not after realizing he can’t be with Louis.

Throwing the covers off him, he leaves the room, entering the first guest room he sees and gets lucky that the only occupant is Zayn who is still asleep, buried under the covers. Without second guessing the fact Zayn is not a morning person and hates wake up calls, he slides in beside his best friend, curling up tight while reaching a hand over to him, just wanting some physical touch to calm himself down before he has a panic attack.

He doesn’t realize Zayn rolling over, too caught up in tears and trying to breathe. Zayn doesn’t say a word, gathering him up in his arms, running a hand over his back and sighing.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down. He sniffs, rubbing his eyes again before looking at Zayn who manages to look half asleep and completely awake and aware at the same time. “What happened?”

Harry bites his lip. “I can’t be with him.”

Zayn frowns. “Who? Lou-“

He shakes his head. “I can’t be with him. I can’t do that to him. Make him come out and deal with that just because of me? I can’t. I-"

Zayn hushes him, wiping the tears that still linger on his cheeks. “Remember when I said we weren’t gonna think about anything but having fun?” He pauses. Harry looks at him, nodding. “See? We’re gonna get on that plane, and you are gonna smash it and we’re gonna have some fun. We can think about all this later.”

Harry smiles softly. “That’s what Louis said too.”

“See, he’s a smart lad.” Harry closes his eyes, only opening them when he feels a hand lifting his chin up softly. “And he’s gonna make his own decision about coming out, regardless if it’s about you or not. All you and I and the rest of the lads can do is support him.”

Deep down Harry knows this, but it doesn’t help the gnawing feeling he has when he thinks about how bad the fallout could be from Louis announcing his sexuality. 

“Come on.” Zayn pats his hip, sitting up and running his hand through his hair. “We gotta get ready to go.”

“To fucking Russia,” Harry murmurs, sitting up himself. He bites his lip again, leaning into Zayn. “Thanks, you know.”

Zayn gives him a smile, one of the one’s he saves for those he clearly cares about. The one that makes Harry smile too, because it makes him feel absolutely loved.

“Let’s go to Russia!” He yells at the top of his lungs, making Harry laugh.

Regardless of what happens, he thinks as they are boarding the plane and Louis is sitting next to him talking nonsense about the flight attendant’s safety speech that they both have heard countless amounts of times. Regardless, he has a feeling that something is about to change.

Change is good, he remembers. Or at least that is what he will tell himself as the plane is taking off and Louis is hooking his foot around Harry’s because Louis hates take off more than anything. 

Change might not be so bad after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've realized my knowledge on figure skating is lacking. I'm sorry to those who are more familiar with the sport. I just wrote how I felt events should progress. Sorry it's late, but it's long!
> 
> Also, this work is second in the series, intended to be multiple chapters. Please enjoy.
> 
> Also also, this is dedicated to darkknight, who demanded more. Hope you like it. <3

Harry realized from a very early age that life was not fair. The world was full of people who were sorted into two groups: ones that were out to get you, and ones that were there for you. Growing up he was always described as full of life and energy, but he picked his moments where he let himself shine. He learned heartbreak from his failures and love from his success. His mum and sister and later step-father were his best friends. His best relationship was with them. Skating in a world full of people jealous of your ups and laughing at your downs shaped Harry into not trusting anyone. It left his heart vulnerable, but the mask he wore prevented the world from seeing just how lonely he really was. When he met Zayn, life changed which is an intense thing to reflect on because then his group of four became five not including Zayn’s family. The older Harry got the more he realized these people were his core; his driving factor to roll out of bed at four in the morning every day to practice and train and rehearse routines over and over again. They influenced his costumes, his music, how happy he was during light parts in routines and sad parts as well. 

For nineteen years, his life had been pretty simple. Skating, family, school. Those were his priorities, and his family knew that. 

Had Harry known that going with Zayn to that match would change his life forever, he might have been a little more eager to attend. Or more scared, Harry hadn’t decided.

\------

While the other four boys decided to room together while in Russia, Harry segregated himself from them, choosing to stay in the room next to Charlie White. For years their tradition was this, and neither of them was willing to risk breaking the habit, even if it meant Zayn pouting at him in the lobby since Harry had neglected to mention that detail.  
It also meant Harry could separate himself from Louis. His mind needed to focus on skating, not on the fact that he was falling for Louis and wanted nothing more than to share a bed with him for not just the duration of their stay in Russia, but forever.

As he lay in bed minutes before his alarm was set to go off the morning of the first day of competition, his mind wandered not to his routine (which was common for him to do the morning of competition), but instead he thought about how much his life had changed in just a few short months. It almost felt silly to think that gaining three new friends would be something so monumental, but in Harry’s world it was. He kept himself guarded, which felt safe. His five thousand Twitter followers were greeted with song lyrics and short bursts about international travel and pictures of his skates and his torn up feet after a day of intense practice. He could be open about all of that, but not himself. He was not ashamed by it, but when he caught his mum giving him looks out of the corner of his eyes while seated around the dinner table, it made him realize things. It was why he would let Zayn drag him out every so often, when he could tell Harry was slowly driving himself insane with practice and school. It was the main reason why he let Zayn convince him to go watch the Man U game, which led to meeting Liam and Niall and Louis.

That event which led to Harry and Zayn’s group of two expanding into a group of five. It didn’t take long; each day bringing some sort of adventure and laughs when all five of them could meet up. Unfortunately it did not happen often, considering Liam had his career and Zayn was finishing up school while Niall and Louis had the team and Harry had his skating and school. Harry had come to appreciate their new found friendship. Niall had the uncanny sense to see when Harry was slowly becoming lost inside his head worrying about anything and knew exactly how to bring him back out into the real world. Liam could quickly turn on the caregiver mode, ordering food and letting Harry curl up next to him and allowing him settle before petting his hair or simply wrapping an arm around him.

Then there was Louis. Sweet, brash, and loud Louis. Harry had never met someone so full of himself one minute and so insecure the next. It brought a smile to his face just thinking about it. Rolling over, he shut his alarm off, texting his coach that he was up just so he wouldn’t hear a pounding on his door a few minutes later. It allowed him a few more moments in bed, under the warmth of the covers where he could wrap a hand around himself with thoughts of Louis, not caring that some poor maid would have to change them later. Perks of hotel life.

After getting out of the shower and dressing in workout gear, a knock on his door came. He frowned, checking his phone in case it was his coach but they had agreed to meet in the lobby and he was still a few minutes early. Curiosity peaked, he checked the peephole, opening the door.

“Louis?”

The other man looked up from the floor, flashing Harry a tired smile. “Hey.”

He held the door open, letting Louis pass by before closing it and looking at Louis, who had sat down at the edge of his bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I knew you had an early skate practice and I was just wondering if maybe I could come watch?”

Harry’s mouth gaped open. After not saying anything for a moment, Louis sighed. “Sorry, it was stupid of me. I’ll just go-“

“No, stop. Of course you can. I’m just surprised to see you up this early.”

Louis gave him a look. “Harold, I am capable of waking up early. I have this thing called an alarm, you see.”

“Oh, yeah, the alarm you either forget to set or sleep right through. That alarm?”

“You’re quite cheeky at five in the morning, aren’t you?”

Harry shrugged, putting a headscarf on and wrapping a scarf around his neck. “Woke up before my alarm went off.”

He let the silence settle around them, not willing to give anything else away until Louis asked.

“Are you okay?”

His attempt at flashing Louis a smile obviously failed by the look on his face. He settled with a sigh. “Just a little nervous. New routine, new coach, new music. It’s a little scary is all.”

Louis nodded. He hoped Louis knew better than to reassure him, because it would only serve to make him more nervous. Instead he felt arms wrap around his waist as Louis hugged him from behind. They stood in that position until his phone beeped, signaling his coach was waiting for him. Without saying anything, Louis let go, and Harry smiled at him in thanks before they left the room together.

\------

Having already spoken to his mum after learning he was the second to last skater in the final group to skate that evening, Harry sat in a dressing room inside the arena. He had already spoken to Charlie, who had given him one of the most encouraging talks he’d ever received and a massive hug, and even Meryl gave him a sly grin before hugging him. He loved the American ice dance team more than he did any other skating pair. They had exchanged plans to train during the summer during their talk, and in the back of his mind he wondered how he’d be able to coerce the rest of the boys to come along as well. He found it rather strange that he didn’t consider plans without the other boys being involved, but it was almost a family feel to the thought. He simply did not want to travel alone. At the very least he figured Zayn would tag along; the pair of them would be on summer break from university and it was as good as vacation as any.

The phone in his hand started buzzing, and without glancing at the screen Harry answered it. “Yeah?”

“Mate, let us in?”

“Wha- Zayn? Where are you?”

“Outside your dressing room now let us in!”

Phone still to his ear, he walked to the door, opening it to see the four boys outside, who all hurried in as soon as possible. “What in the world?”

“We snuck past security!” Niall exclaimed, immediately heading for the select snacks Harry had with him.

Harry turned his gaze toward Zayn, who shrugged. “They wanted to see you before you got all in your mind space or whatever you call it.”

“It’s called my head-“ he started, but was overshadowed by Liam point at the television that was broadcasting the events taking place on ice. Harry paid no attention to it, just liked having the picture on for some light. Liam and Niall sat down in front of the TV, sharing a bag of pretzels as Louis and Zayn stood in front of Harry.

“Is that your outfit?” Louis asked, pointing at the wardrobe bag hanging at the top of the bathroom door. When Harry nodded, Louis made to open it but was stopped as Harry grabbed one of his wrists. A twist of fear spiked through Harry, the pain evident on his face as Louis backed away.

“Let it be a surprise, yeah?” Zayn said, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders in comfort. Harry smiled at Louis, trying to make his eyes apologize for what happened. Louis gave him a smile, nudging one of his shoulders with his fist. “Alright, mister professional skater. We’ll let you have some mystery.”

“Oi, you guys, some guy just fell!” Niall was pointing at the TV, Liam slapping his arm down and groaning. “Niall, you idiot, I’m sure it happens all the time.”

Harry felt eyes on him, and he shrugged. “It kind of does, but people in the final group probably won’t.”

“Why is that?” Louis asked, softly.

He looked at him, smirking. “Because we’re the best in the world.”

“Oh, we got ourselves a cocky lad, boys!” Louis called out, and Harry felt his cheeks turn red. Zayn brought him in closer. “’S okay babe, better to be cocky than puking your guts out.”

“I’ve already done that a few times today,” Harry admitted, eyes gazing down at the floor in embarrassment.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He shrugged. “It’s my thing to deal with.”

Zayn opened his mouth to answer, but another knock on the door interrupted him. His coach poked his head through the door, eyes glancing at the four boys in the room before landing on Harry. “Get dressed mal'chik, it’s almost time.”

Instead of feeling the usual sense of dread he got at the announcement, he felt strangely calm. A little nervous buzz ran through him as Zayn hugged him, then Liam and Niall before finally Louis. The other three had left the room, leaving just the pair of them alone.

Louis smirked. “Need any help getting into your outfit?”

He shook his head. “Nah, shouldn’t be a problem. It’s no dress or anything.”

“Bummer, I was hoping to see some-“

Harry cut him off, bending down to kiss him. It was brief, lasting mere seconds but it felt like the world had stopped for a moment in time. He hovered in front of Louis, wanting more but knowing if they continued Harry would have a hard time getting into costume without the world knowing he had a hard on.

“Harry, I-“

“Don’t say anything. I wanted to do that.”

“Me too, but-“

“Shh,” he said, leaning back to look into Louis’ eyes, smiling softly. “To be continued?”

This time Louis extended, kissing him back harder than before. He jumped back just as quick, giving him a stare. “To be continued.”

He left the room quickly, and Harry smirked. He had no idea what possessed him to kiss Louis, not after telling himself there was no way he could ever be with Louis. He couldn’t help but being a lover, and wanting to love someone so deeply that it physically hurt. It was his downfall, his mum always said he put himself out there too much when it came to love and always ended up hurt. It was the only thing that he couldn’t keep guarded, much to his chagrin. As he got dressed, his mind was mixed between his routine and beautiful blue eyes. He still felt nervous, but more calm than he had ever felt before a routine.

There were only five skaters in the final group, and as Harry skated around the rink alongside them for warm-ups, his eyes drifted to the crowd. Niall had told him he was going to make a sign, but Harry thought nothing of it until he saw it. It was bright neon yellow, with black writing that exclaimed Harry was number one, with smiley faces galore. It made him smirk as he skated along, a little embarrassed at the fact that everyone was going to see it but deep down it made him feel loved. He especially loved the fact that Zayn was acting as though he didn’t know the other three, who were acting like complete baboons but secretly was helping hold the sign up in devotion to Harry. He shook his head, skating to the edge of the rink and grabbing the covers for his skates from his coach, who was giving him a look.

“Friends?”

He smiled fondly. “Yeah, they made the trip with me since my mum couldn’t.”

His coach said nothing more, shaking his head but Harry could tell he was holding back a smile. Putting on his jacket, Harry made his way to the bleachers as a Japanese man opened up the final session of the night. Afterwards, Harry leaned in to speak to his coach, eyes glancing up to where the others were sitting. While Zayn, Liam, and Niall were watching the girls skate around collecting what was thrown on the ice, Louis was looking down at him. Harry smiled at him, waving. He smiled harder when Louis waved back, and Harry turned his gaze to the ice again, as another Japanese skater got ready. 

After the Canadian skater, it was finally his turn to take the ice. He took in a deep breath before taking the ice, waving to the crowd as his name was announced while he skated around the rink to get the blood flowing. He skated to center ice, getting into position and waiting for his short program music to begin.

After that, it was all mechanics that kicked him. He heard the roar of the crowd as he landed his most complicated jump, but took nothing in until he was posed again at center ice, breathing hard. It took a minute to realize everyone was on their feet and clapping, and he grinned. He had landed everything, and by the sounds of it his new routine was well liked by the crowd. Taking his bows, he skated to his coach, who let him put his covers on before giving him a massive hug, exclaiming in Russia how proud he was. He was still out of breath as he sat in the kiss or cry area, waving at the camera and giving a “Hi mom!” as he sat waiting for his scores. It took a moment, and Harry crossed his fingers in hope he was in the top five. His eyes didn’t leave the screen, and soon the numbers 90.62 were posted beside his name. Second place. He started laughing, wrapping his arms around his coach for another hug as he waved at the camera again. Second place with only one skated left was a good place to be after short program.

Harry floated on cloud nine as he went through press, telling his gratitude to his coach for helping him design a brand new routine and his support group and the typical answers before one journalist had the nerve to ask something unrelated to skating.

“Mark here from BBC. Harry, you’ve been spotted with Man U defender Louis Tomlinson around town, is it true he is here with you?”

Harry frowned. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Mark, from BBC.”

“Ah, well, Mark from BBC, I’m sure that while this is breaking news back home, I’m sorry to inform you that my personal life is none of your business, nor is the life of a footballer any of yours as well.” 

The room went silent. Harry stood up, glancing around at the journalists. “Thank you, that’s all.” Leaving without another word, Harry fumed as he made his way to his dressing room, where in fact Louis and the rest of the boys were waiting for him. His anger showed on his face as he entered, the four boys staring at him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, marching into the bathroom and slamming the door, getting to work on removing his costume. It took only a few minutes before there was a soft knock on the door. “I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

The door opened and a figure shot in, the door closing as soon as it opened. Louis.

“I could have been naked, y’know,” Harry mumbled, sitting down on the toilet seat shirtless.

“Mate, I’m a footballer, I’ve seen a lot worse in the locker room.”

Harry didn’t react, staring at the ground. “Hey.”

He looked up, biting his lip at Louis’ concerned face. “What happened?”

He figured he couldn’t hide it; it’d probably be in the press tomorrow. “I was doing press, and some ass from the BBC had the nerve to bring you up, so in a sense I told him to piss off.”

It took a moment before Louis started laughing. “You told him that?! You?”

“Hey, I can be mean sometimes!”

“Harry, you have about as much bark as a kitten.” Harry gave him a look, Louis grabbing his land and pulling him up off the seat and handing him his shirt. “Come on, the lads want to go out to dinner, and Niall said he’s paying and he never pays for food so we have to take him up on his offer.”

He nodded, putting his shirt on. “And Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

He looked at Louis through the mirror, eyebrows furrowing. “For what?”

“For what you said to that journalist.”

Harry knew Louis was not going to say anything else, and he didn’t have to. Regardless of what either of them wanted, it just wasn’t right for them to be public about their feelings for each other, and that was okay.

For now.

Harry swooped in, giving Louis a hug he quickly returned. “Okay, okay, don’t get sappy on me, I was just trying to-“

“I know.” Harry smiled, stepped back from Louis. “I know.”

Louis smiled back. “You were great out there, Harry. I’ve never seen Niall so speechless before in my life.”

“Well, you know,” Harry said, flicking his hair to the side as if he were a pop star diva. “It’s all natural talent.”

Louis bent over laughing, and Harry couldn’t help but feel an insane pleasure in knowing he could make Louis laugh so hard. They left the bathroom, getting bombarded by the other three boys and entangled in a five person hug that was quickly becoming their thing.

At dinner, Zayn led the cheer, holding his glass up and smiling at Harry. “To our little golden boy, who is gonna take home the gold tomorrow!” Harry blushed, bringing his glass to the middle as the rest of the boys shouted their cheers. He shared a look with Louis, knocking their knees together under the table. Louis wrapped his foot around Harry’s ankle, reminiscent to the plane ride when Louis admitted he hated take off. It made Harry wonder if he was becoming Louis’ anchor; to help settle him when he got too off.

Harry found himself not caring a bit if that were the case.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, what I think is the last chapter unless a certain someone thinks I should write another. Hopefully this does not disappoint!
> 
> Also, this work is second in the series, intended to be multiple chapters. Please enjoy.
> 
> Also also, this is dedicated to darkknight, who demanded more. Hope you like it. <3

Harry is bent over the toilet the next morning when there is a knock on the door. He can’t help but groan; the sick feeling is all too familiar but it felt worse this time. More pressure due to having better scores. He felt more confident on the ice than ever, and even though he was in Russia he felt like he could actually medal for the first time in his life. That was until he felt the familiar tug in his stomach that sent him to the bathroom an hour before his alarm went off. It wasn’t the best way to start the day, he thought as he opened the door, not bothering to check to see who it was. His coach said they would leave at eight, and it was only six in the morning now. He had no idea who would be behind the door.

“Surprise! We thought we’d- holy shit, are you okay?”

Zayn was the first one in the room, hands on his forehead and cheek with a worried look on his face. Louis was right behind him; Harry figured Liam and Niall were there but concentrated on Zayn’s face.

“’M fine, Zayn, I’m fine. Just jitters.”

“Mate, no offense, but you look like you just puked your guts up,” Niall voiced from behind him.

“’S cause I did,” Harry said, trying to get out of Zayn’s grasp but failing. The older boy pushed him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind them. When he looked up, both Louis and Zayn were there, staring at him. It almost felt like an intervention.

“Is this an intervention?”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “No, you twat. Are you okay?”

Harry nodded, closing the toilet lid and sitting down on it. “Just nervous, you know?”

“No, Harry, I don’t know, because you never tell us anything unless we pry it out of you!”

He didn’t look up at Zayn; he couldn’t because he could feel the hurt in Zayn’s tone. He heard the door open and close again, and shut his eyes. Hands were on his knees after a moment, rubbing softly.

“Love, look at me.”

Louis. “Lou…”

“Hey, shh, none of that. We’re just worried is all. I know this is a big day for you, but we’re here for you babe.” He smiled softly at Harry, and he felt a smile on his lips before he knew what he was doing. “It’s okay to be nervous, Harry, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.”

Harry sighed. “You’re part of a team, right? A team that picks you up when you’re down and helps you succeed.” He waited for Louis to nod, not speaking until he did so. “See, I’ve never had that. I’ve been on my own since I was eight years old. I’ve had my family and my coaches but that only goes so far when you’re out there alone on the ice.”

He had to look away from Louis’ gaze because he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say and it drove him insane. He was never one for words; the media loved him because he typically said whatever came to mind first. Sure, it got him into trouble sometimes, but he was always seen as the adorable curly haired British boy who was good, sure, but never quite good enough. He tried for so long to prove that he could compete, and not making it to the Olympics the year before hurt him in more ways than one. It prompted a change in coach, a complete overhaul in everything he did. He changed his mind set, his diet, the way he lived his life and worked so hard on it and now that the moment was here, he was reverting back to the old days.

Louis stayed silent while Harry thought, but smiled at him when Harry looked back. “You’re not alone anymore, Harry.”

He was slowly realizing that. He nodded at Louis, accepting the hug Louis jumped up to give him, wrapping the smaller boy in his arms and onto his lap. It was comforting, he thought, to have a support system like this. It would take getting used to, he knew that, and the closer he got to Louis the more routine he knew it would be. There would be times it wouldn’t be possible for all four of them to come out to watch Harry skate, but knowing that they supported him. Is that was love felt like?

Louis giggled. “Yeah, this is exactly what love feels like.”

Another knock came at the door. “Everything alright?”

Louis moved to get up, but Harry tightened his hold on him, shaking his head. “I don’t care if you don’t care.” Louis looked at him for a moment, almost as if he were searching for something in Harry’s eyes. He hoped he looked sincere and calm and trusting, and he must have because Louis nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, come in.”

Zayn came in first, stopping short at the sight of them. Liam and Niall looked over each of his shoulders. While Liam looked shocked and Zayn contemplative, Niall was grinning.  
“About damn time! Jesus, I thought you two were gonna dance around each other for ages!”

Looking back on the moment as they rode to the arena, it might have seemed quite quick how close he had gotten to Louis. Maybe it was destiny, if he believed in that sort of thing. 

\------

Warm ups took place two hours before competition, where no media were allowed but coaches and companions were. It gave Harry time to breathe on the ice, to forget about the real world and focus on jumps and timing and try to forget about how much was riding on his free skate. He led the other four boys back to his dressing room, letting out a sigh when they were all alone.

“You know you don’t have to stay in here with me,” he said, looking at the rest of them. “I’ll be fine.”

“Haaaaaarry,” Niall whined, throwing his arm around his shoulder, dragging him to the couch to sit between him and Louis. “We wanna be here. Companionship and shit.”  
Harry frowned. “Companionship?”

“Yeah, it’s a big word, right? Sounds smart, ya know?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “It does, Niall, thank you.”

Harry grinned at Niall’s smile. The blonde was too infectious for his own good. 

Zayn cleared his throat, getting Harry’s attention. “Mate, we we’re thinking…”

He groaned. “Zayn’s nothing good ever comes of that when you say that.”

“Shut the fuck up. We-“he pointed between himself, Louis, and Liam before continuing. “We were thinking you need a manager.”

He frowned again. A manager? “For what?”

“To deal with the press.”

“I’m not that popular, Zayn. No skater is that popular back home.”

“Not every skater is going to be linked to Louis when we get back home either.”

That made Harry frown. He turned to look at Louis, who smiled at him, taking his hand. “I know we had said we would discuss this after we got back home, whatever this is, but you need to be prepared for paparazzi.”

“I am, I mean, we got paparazzi’d or whatever you call it that one time-“

“Yeah, that was one time. If you get associated with me, it’s gonna be ten times worse.”

Harry sighed. “What if we hid it?”

“Hid what?”

He pointed between them rapidly. “This. You and I. What if we kept it between us?” A look of hurt flashed over Louis eyes, making him regret his statement immediately.

Liam cleared his throat. “That’s not a bad idea, Louis.”

“No!” Louis’ hand smacked down on the arm of the couch, making Harry jump. “We’ve discussed this, Liam. I’m not gonna hide who I am just because some stuffy arsed prick doesn’t like the fact that I’m gay! They can ship me off to another team for all I care.”

“What about Harry?” Niall piped up.

“What _about_ Harry?” Louis said, arms folded across his chest.

“Harry gets a say in this too, you know,” Zayn said softly, and Harry wanted to kiss him for how level headed he was staying in this. Truth be told, he had no idea how this even came about. Apparently they had talked about this before, which meant that Louis had obvious feelings for him. He already knew that; he thought back to that shared night in Louis’ bed and how rested and relaxed he felt waking up beside Louis. How he promised himself nothing could happen between them because he didn’t want to ruin Louis’ career. How he threw caution to the wind and kissed him, because he couldn’t help himself around Louis. Everything was slowly becoming revolved around Louis.

The talking continued, getting louder until Harry cleared his throat. “Do you love me more than football?”

Louis turned his gaze on him, but Harry couldn’t look up from his hands. He had to know. “Harry, what?”

“Just answer the question.”

The room went silent. “I- I don’t know.”

Harry smiled softly, finally looking up only at Louis. “Then that means we have to hide it. Just for now,” he added, as Louis opened his mouth to reject. “I told myself I wouldn’t risk your career just for this.”

He watched Louis’ lips purse. He knows Louis has to know he is right, regardless if he agrees with it. The room felt tense, too tense for his liking as he got up, stretching his legs out. “I’ll agree to a manager, but it has to be either you or you,” he said, gesturing between Liam and Zayn, who shared a look before looking back at him. “I gotta get dressed, you lot should get to your seats.”

Niall jumped up first, looking almost relieved to have a way out of the room. He bumped knuckles with Harry, giving him a grin before trotting out of the room. Liam followed suit, but leaned in for a hug instead. Zayn locked eyes with him, patting his shoulder and not saying a word as he left. The door closed, and Harry looked at Louis, who was staring at the wall.

“Lou?”

“Are you ashamed?”

“Uh- not sure that I follow…”

“Have you ever been ashamed of who you are?”

Harry shook his head, sitting back down beside Louis. “Nah. I mean, there were times where it was tough being who I am and doing what I like to do, but I never let it stop me.”  
Louis finally looked at him, and Harry wanted to take back everything at the sight of tears in Louis’ eyes. “Then why can’t you do this for me?”

He palmed his thighs, itching to touch Louis but knowing he shouldn’t, not until he makes Louis understand once more. “I can’t let you live in regret. If you gave up everything for me, I don’t want you to wake up one morning and hate me for it. You should be allowed to play football and have your life too, Louis.”

“What if I wanted to, hmm? What if I were willing to throw it all away for you?”

Harry smirked. “I’d say that you were lying.”

Louis huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’d be right. It’s still not fair though.”

He finally let go, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder, bringing him close. “No one ever said life was. It’d take everything right out of it if it were.” He kissed the top of Louis’ head. “Now get out, I gotta get naked.”

“Oh, come on, can’t I stay?”

Harry stood back up, pulling Louis with him. “That can wait until later. Like, much later. Like, back home for awhile later.”

Louis sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” It didn’t stop him from kissing Harry, and he was much obliged to let it happen. Louis stepped back, smiling. “Go win us a gold medal, love.”  
“Us? You mean me, right?”

Louis shook his head as he opened the door, turning back to look at Harry. “It’s us now, Harry.” With a wink, he was gone.

Harry realized it was going to be the longest afternoon of his life.

\------

After warm ups, it felt like everything was about to go to shit. He watches a Frenchman slash his hand open on his skate, a patch of ice covered in red and little drops splattered across the entire ice. He stands up to clap when it’s over, his stomach feeling a little weak from the sight as he watches the clean up process. He focuses on his breathing, in and out numerous times. His coach rubs his back, murmuring in Russian words that he doesn’t understand but still takes comfort in. The next skater, from Japan, has a screw come loose on his skate after his very first jump and time is taken to repair it. He can’t help but wonder what jinxed the final round of skating. Harry glances at the Canadian skater, who looks about as nervous as he does watching the events take place. Another Japanese skater takes the ice while the previous scores are announced, and boos echo around the arena. Harry looks around, spotting Charlie in the audience close to where the rest of the boys are sitting. He forgot that Charlie and Meryl competed later that night, momentarily feeling bad but the thought quickly leaves as fast as it came. His jacket his off, and it’s his turn on the ice.

To say Harry is nervous is quite the understatement. Over the years he has learned to school his features, even though his mind is racing over thoughts of his routine and Louis and the crowd. He wants to give them a good routine, he wants to skate his best but most of all, he just wants to win. He settles in the middle of the ice, taking in a deep breath as he gets into position.

From there, he’s told later, he skates like he’s on fire.

By the end, he’s got tears in his eyes and he knows what the announcers are saying about it. How he’s never skated so well in Russia, how he proved everyone wrong and that he is guaranteed a medal. After bowing to the crowd, he rushes over to his coach, not bothering to put on his covers before hugging him tightly. All he can hear in his ear is his coach telling him how proud he is, how much he loves Harry. It almost feels a little overwhelming, and his face must show it because he’s given room to breathe. He puts on his covers with shaky hands, slipping his jacket over his shoulders as they sit in the kiss or cry area.

When he looks at the tape later, he can’t help but laugh at how white his face was, and how scared he looked. Time feels like it’s standing still while waiting for the score. He’s got his head down, listening to his coach speak when it’s announced.

Harry Styles. Great Britain. 186.23.

It’s a new personal record for him. He’s allowed to sit in the kiss or cry area as the Canadian performs. It’s a relief to have the cameras off of him, with the tears in his eyes as he watches the last performance of the night. It’d take near perfection to beat him, he knows it. So when the Canadian falls, his breath stops short, because that only means one thing.

He’s won a gold medal.

They quickly move spots, going back to the bleachers. Someone hands him a flag, and he feels stunned, like something major has happened that he hasn’t realized yet. His coach holds his head between his hands, kissing his forehead like he does all the time and as soon as the final scores are announced he’s back on the ice for a victory lap. The British flag waves proudly around his shoulders, and he doesn’t care that tears are falling down his face. He knows his mum is probably at home, or watching at work and crying her eyes out too.

It’s a whirlwind of interviews from there. Yes, he’s shocked at the events in the final group; no, he had no idea what would happen. He thanks his coach and his team and everyone else he can think of. No one mentions Louis or the interview from the night before, and he’s glad because he’d probably admit to dating Louis right then and there. Cloud nine doesn’t begin to describe his feelings. 

He meets up with Charlie and Meryl near his dressing room (there’s beside his; Charlie coerced someone into making that happen, Harry is sure) and it induces more tears from all of them. He’s never seen Meryl cry in all the years he has known her, and when he tries to tell her she’s beautiful even when she cries, she smacks his shoulder before giving him another hug. He promises to watch them perform later that night, how could he not after the support they’ve shown him. 

By the time he makes it to his dressing room to freshen up, it’s almost time to go back out for the medal ceremony. He opens the door to what he had assumed would be an empty room, and immediately a body crashes into him.

It’s Louis. Of course it’s Louis. Louis who would risk it all to come down here to make sure he was the first person Harry saw after winning his gold medal. He holds Louis tightly against him, the embrace calming down nerves he didn’t know he had still lingering. When Louis pulls back, the grin on his face is so large Harry grins right back.

“I told you so. I know you could do it.”

“I knew I could too. I just needed the right people beside me.”

Louis reaches up, kissing him soundly. They kiss until there is a knock on his door, both out of breath and smiling at each other like two teenagers who were just caught making out for the first time by one of their parents. It feels so juvenile, but so right. He pulls away regretfully, still smiling. He has words on his lips that need to be said, but in that moment he knows that Louis understands everything. He watches Louis leave the room, following his coach back out to the ice for the medal ceremony.

He mouths along to the words of the anthem, a grin on his face as they take pictures before he knows it, it’s all over. The medal hanging around his neck is one of the most beautiful things he has even laid eyes on. He meets Charlie again, taking pictures with him and Meryl that are sure to be online before the end of the day. He probably looks dopey, but doesn’t care. He wishes them luck, giving them hugs and enters his dressing room again, seeing it full of his friends. It’s a pile up on him, four sets of arms wrapping around each other and he starts to cry once more, this time tears of relief and joy.

By the end of the night, he’s a trending topic on Twitter after Niall posts a picture of him and Louis sitting side by side, an arm wound around each other and their heads tilted together. He has no idea what Niall writes, but when he checks his phone he has gained almost ten thousand new followers, he frowns.

“What is Larry Stylinson?”

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you read? Don't forget to comment! Find me on tumblr: http://serised.tumblr.com/ and request whatever you would like!


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